


Sweets For The Sweet

by amyfortuna



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a snowy Christmas Eve, Charlie and Wonka take a ride in the Elevator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweets For The Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cimorene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimorene/gifts).



> This story has been podficced by Lest_We_Ship here: http://lest-we-ship.livejournal.com/1827.html

"Charlie! Charlie! Are you in here?" Charlie could hear Willy Wonka's voice as the metal sliding door of the Inventing Room rolled shut on Christmas Eve. Ever since his 20th birthday, Charlie had been spending more and more time in the Inventing Room by himself, coming up with things as wonderful and magical as any his mentor ever thought of.  
   
Charlie had grown up in the last ten years. He was a scrawny child and would always be slender, but he had grown up wiry and strong, and taller than his father. He was taller than Wonka too, just barely, and reveled in the fact that he could actually look down at his erstwhile mentor. Wonka pretended not to notice this or most of the other ways in which Charlie actually outclassed him, but Charlie couldn't help seeing happiness mingled with pride, whenever Wonka looked at him these days.  
   
These days, the mentor/student relationship they built ever since Charlie moved into the factory was changing, becoming something more intimate and more distant at the same time. Charlie was growing up, developing his own ideas, more a partner now than a student. Naturally, this meant they were more distant with each other, to the point, every now and then, of debating the merits of a new idea or product fiercely, but equally.  
   
But then again, there were also moments of surprising closeness, touches that lingered and words that were whispered, and once last year, to Charlie's surprise, a particularly heated argument cut short with a clinging embrace from Wonka and a plea not to leave. Stunned, Charlie had promised that he never would, never could.  
   
Wonka had taught him everything he knew. With time Charlie was learning to harness that magic, to become a wizard of sweets himself, rather than just following in his strange mentor's footsteps. He invented lollipops the color of sunsets and chocolate that glowed in the dark and one very special sweet that lit up from the inside when sucked on and shone like a star in the dark. Whenever Charlie demonstrated a new idea these days, it was easy to see approval and excitement on Wonka's face, sometimes almost before the candy was finished.

And Charlie was looking forward to seeing that again, tonight, when he showed Wonka his newest idea, Rainbow Rock. This was a hard sugar candy carved from the finest rock candy supplies the Oompa-Loompas could mine, and inside it glowed with all the colors of the rainbow, from bright passionate red all the way through the color spectrum to Wonka violet - Wonka's own personal favorite color.

Smiling, he took a finished lump of Rainbow Rock from the small pile of glowing candy, and, slipping it into his pocket, walked toward the door.

"I'm here, Willy," he said, and turned a corner to see Wonka dressed up in a thick coat, hat and gloves, gesturing wildly at him.

"Forget your coat!" he said, practically dancing with excitement. "No! Strike that, reverse it - get your coat and come with me!" He held out Charlie's coat, a long fleecy cream-colored wrap, and Charlie took it, reaching for his hat and gloves at the same time. Wonka barely gave him a chance to put them on before he rushed out the door, smack into the Glass Elevator.

Charlie helped Wonka up, feeling a rush of butterflies flutter through his stomach when he touched Wonka. This was a familiar but nevertheless new sensation, and Charlie was well aware of what it meant. Of course he was in love with Wonka. He sometimes wondered how everyone in the world couldn't be in love with Wonka. But he also knew that Wonka gave love away very rarely, and hadn't Charlie already benefited enough? Was it selfish to ask for more of Wonka, when the man clearly loved his own company more than any other human being on the planet - not out of a sense of ego, but simply that he liked to be alone?

Wonka was pulling him into the elevator and pushing a well-known button. "Up and out!" he declared, turning to Charlie with a bright smile. "It's snowing!"

Wonka in this mood was dangerous and giddy, Charlie knew, but he couldn't resist a small internal cheer. Wonka in this mood was happy, so Charlie loved to see it.

They crashed through the roof at speed ("Why not build a retractable roof?" Charlie had suggested after the third hole in the roof, but Wonka's response was something along the lines of "my factory is not a baseball stadium!" and that was the end of that) and came out into the night sky. Snow cascaded around them, swirling. The rockets on the elevator powered up and swung the elevator down across the sleeping town, where snow was gathering on rooftops.

They lingered there, hanging over the town and the factory, lights twinkling down below. Charlie, without thinking about it, reached out for Wonka's hand and was almost surprised to find it taken and held. Even through the gloves their hands were warm together.

After a long moment, Wonka pressed another button, and the elevator dropped down into a white field, untouched by human footprints. They got out, and Wonka scooped up a handful of snow. Charlie saw what was going to happen and grabbed his own handful. They chucked snowballs at each other for a few minutes, laughing, then Wonka took out a small tube, showing it to Charlie.

"Watch," he said, and sprinkled the contents all over a untouched bank of snow. It fizzled for a second like it was burning, then patterns of light appeared, popping up out of the snow and putting on a small fireworks show just over the snowbank. Wonka tucked an arm around Charlie's waist and together they watched the show until the last light fizzled and died. Then Wonka pulled his hands away and clapped. "Isn't it great? Snow fireworks!"

Charlie was amazed. "It's incredible, Willy," he said. "Now little children who live in Scandinavia -"

"Can have fireworks too!" Wonka completed Charlie's sentence. "What's more, they're totally safe to use! They're Wonka's Amazing Snow Fireworks! They'll be the end of all fireworks in wintertime! Merry Christmas, Charlie!"

"They're brilliant," Charlie said with a grin, then stepped forward, slipping his hand into his pocket. "But I have something for you too." He pulled his hand out. "This is Rainbow Rock."

The rock glowed in the moonlight with all the colors of the rainbow, and Wonka stepped back, stunned. He clasped his hands together at his chest, a gesture he only used when he was genuinely overwhelmed. "Charlie! That's beautiful!"

"Taste it," Charlie said, sketching a half-bow as he presented the sweet to Wonka. "Nothing but the finest rock candy for my Rainbow Rock."

Wonka took the rock from Charlie's hand and licked across it. For an instant his tongue glowed in the light of the candy, and Charlie felt himself go breathless. Then Wonka turned to him.

"It's your best work yet, my dear, your very best," he said. "You've finished what you started with the glow-in-the-dark chocolate and the Star Sweet. Every inch of this is perfect. I do believe it will outsell Edinburgh Rock, Rocky Road, and Rock 'n' Roll."

* * *

Once back in the elevator, Charlie felt almost incandescently happy, so full of joy he thought it must be glowing from his face. He turned to look at Wonka and found an answering look on his partner's face. The earlier giddiness had faded into a quiet haze of delight that almost did appear to shine from Wonka's face. Wonka lifted his free hand and trailed a finger down Charlie's cheek. "My dear Charlie," he whispered, and there was pride and love in his voice that could not be contained.

The moment hung like a perfect star in the night sky and Charlie was determined to seize it. He leaned forward into the retreating caress and found Wonka's lips with his own.

The first second was a fumble and a gasp of surprise from Wonka, but then his arm came around Charlie, drawing him closer, deeper into the kiss. It lingered, a half-promise of future kisses to come, and Charlie brought their joined hands up between them, holding Wonka's close to his heart.

When it broke at last, Wonka's hand disentangled from Charlie's and flew to his mouth. He looked stunned and thoughtful at the same time, but not unhappy, tasting, considering.

"I have never tasted anything like you," Wonka said at last. "Sweet. Heh." He tried to giggle, but couldn't quite manage it, the look in his eyes too fond. "Addictive," he went on after another moment, and then leaned in.

This kiss was nothing like the previous one - where that one had been lingering and tentative, this one was deep and - there was only one word for it - thorough. Wonka seemed determined to taste as much of this new flavor as possible, and Charlie surged up helplessly into the kiss, going instantly hard at the feel of Wonka's tongue in his mouth.

After a long moment Wonka released him, and he stumbled back against the elevator wall, utterly breathless. Wonka was silent, upturned face, hand to his mouth and seemed to be doing calculations in his head.

"If I could package you up and sell you," he said at last, "You would be my bestselling product, there's no doubt. But I'm too selfish for that - I want you all to myself. I want to taste every inch of you."

Charlie shivered happily, reaching out a hand. "The terms are agreeable, so long as they are mutual," he said, laughing. Wonka took the offered hand, and drew him close again.

"I'm afraid I taste terrible," he said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Charlie said, and pulled the glove from the hand he held. He raised it to his mouth and licked up the palm, gently. Wonka tasted of salty sweetness, as if the candy he worked with had seeped its way into its maker. Charlie smiled wickedly as Wonka went breathless and panting in his turn. "Delicious," Charlie said.

Wonka half-turned and reached forward to press a button on the elevator, which began flying back toward the factory at great speed. Then he grabbed Charlie and they kissed without stopping until they reached Wonka's bedroom. And after that, they spent about a week doing nothing but sampling sweets of the more fleshly kind, and then the rest of their considerably long lives living happily, together, ever after.


End file.
